


His Last Chance

by NekoAbi



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Break Up, Crying, Human AU, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Punching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 06:51:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAbi/pseuds/NekoAbi
Summary: He’s used up the last of his chances. No matter how hard he tries, he’ll not be forgiven. Right?





	His Last Chance

He was angry. He stormed through the building, away from the boy trying to call out to him. He kept walking at his brisk pace. When a hand placed on his shoulder, he spun around and yelled in the other boy’s face.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

“I’m sorry! How many times do I have to say it?”

“You can keep your words, I don’t need them. I don’t need you.” His voice was soft, which hurt the other even more, “I hate you. Don’t touch me, speak to me or look at me.” He aggressively pushed the boy’s hand off his shoulder and began walking away again.

He was not tailed by the other any longer and headed straight for the quietest place he knew to get his mind straight. The day was hot, the sun shining directly down on him. He cursed himself for wearing so many layers as he shrugged his jacket off and rested it on the bench next to him and began to think.

He was so lost in thought that the sudden shadow looming over him came as a surprise. He looked up and locked eyes with the same boy from before. A scowl graced his face. “I told you to not look at me.”

“Just hear me out please.”

“NO!” He stood quickly, hands curled into fists, “No, no, no! Too many times I’ve had to hear you out! Too many excuses, too many broken promises, too many chances. You will just go and do this again! It’s not fair! You never think of me! You think of yourself and your own stupid desires! It’s. Just. Not. Fair!” His fists began to pound on the other’s chest in frustration as he yelled. “What will you do to make it up this time? Make me forget it all with empty promises and sweet words? Well, I have never forgotten, no matter how hard you tried, and I never will. I love you and yet you just take me for granted, use me as you want and never think of me! You treat me like a puppet you only want to add to your collection, treating me so wonderfully until something new and shiny comes along that takes your focus!” Tears began spilling from his eyes as he screamed.

The other boy just took the beatings, not recoiling at all. The boy was waiting until his attacker was out of words, until he was a broken man with tears falling down his cheeks and fists slowing down. Pulling the tearful boy into a tight hug, he let him sob. The tears created a mark on his shirt and he felt every sob racking the other’s body.

“I’m so sorry. It’s not enough to say I’m sorry, but I am truly sorry.” His voice was a whisper, “Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you. I promise.”

Only the soft noises of slowed sobs answered him, so he waited until the sobs were gone completely. Then he was being pushed away. The boy threw off his arms as he wiped his eyes and said nothing. Picking up his jacket, the boy walked past him. There was finally an answer.

“You can’t do anything. You used up your final chance.”

He walked away with no more words. He felt happy for a moment, felt liberated. However, he turned to take a final look at the boy and felt a pang of guilt but quickly pushed it aside. He’d gone through a good few years of excuses and lies, in between the times of love and affection.

That was all in the past now. He could focus on his life now, his future. If they were to be, they’d meet again, but their time was not now. Maybe he’d grow up and mature, realise that toying with people’s emotions and going behind their backs with someone new was something that shouldn’t be praised, that would be nice.

—

Picking up the broom, he swept the floor, collecting all of the hair into a pile before getting it into the bin. He’d just slipped into the back to put dustpan back onto it’s hook when he heard a co-worker calling him to get to the front desk. He brushed his hands on his jeans as he headed over there.

“Hello, how can I help?” He said, focusing on checking the computer.

“Hi Virgil.”

That voice was unmistakable. After so long, it still sounded the same. How that was even possible didn’t cross his mind as he looked up. He caught the eyes of a man who looked so familiar yet so different. “Roman?”

The man across from him smiled in relief, “So, you do remember me? Makes this much easier.” He shuffled on the spot, clearly a little nervous, “You willing to give me another chance?”


End file.
